Pokemon Grey
by MoonFromAlola
Summary: Grey lost her home and her family in Team Electromagnetic's first showing of their power. However, Grey only survived thanks to the help of a Zoroark and its mysterious trainer. Now, ten years later, she hopes to finally track down the evil gang that destroyed a city. Rated T for slight violence and minor course language.
1. Prologue

Flames are engulfing everything, giving my bedroom an orangish tint of color. I peer out from under my bed as the everything I've ever known is burned. I don't hear any sign of my parents. We live in a ranch home and their bedroom is on the other side of the house, and I don't have any way to get to them. The thought of my parents in their room makes me panic even more. What if it's already too late? I struggle to calm my breathing. The smoke is burning my nose and causing my eyes to water so I pull my comforter closer, burying my face in it.

I continue to frantically search the room, hoping to spy an opening in the flames. There's a small space near an open window to my right, but I can't muster the courage to make a run for it. I couldn't make it! Could I make it? What would I even do if I made it? I just don't know!

Suddenly, I see something pop up through the open window that I'd just been observing. I gasp and retreat further away from the thing. The creature has black furry feet with three red claws on the ends. I seems to be walking like a human, but if its feet are any indication to its species then that probably doesn't mean anything. What is it doing? I stay completely still, waiting until any indication of the creature's intentions to make my presence known.

What is it doing? I think to myself. It's the clearest thought that I've had since I woke up. I'm not sure what think anymore!

"Don't worry," a voice says, "I'm here to help you," I don't respond, hoping for some elaboration. How is it speaking like a human? It doesn't make any sense!

"Who are you?" I ask fearfully. I don't receive a response, only fueling the scenarios playing in my head. This creature could be here to harm me further! Maybe this is all a trap and the creature is what caused the fire! I feel myself shaking, panic levels rising as I struggle to keep hidden. The creature stalks around my room, avoiding the flames as much as it can. Suddenly, a tickle rises through my throat so quickly that I can't stop it. I cough uncontrollably for a few seconds before regaining a bit of stability. For a moment I think that the creature didn't see me, but a hand that looks similar to its feet reaches under the bed. I jump in surprise, struggling to comprehend the events unfolding.

"Come on," it speaks. I still don't understand, but am so afraid that any chance of security is welcome. I reach out to the creature's hand, vision spotting quickly to the point where I almost can't find it. I let it drag me out from under the bed, the large tee shirt that I'm wearing is pulled up, revealing the shorts I'm also wearing.

The creature swings me onto its back and I wrap my arms around its neck. I nuzzle my face into its soft fur, finding it more difficult to breathe than a few minutes ago.

"Hold on," the creature demands of me. I obey and continue to examine my surroundings with wide eyes. I don't trust it. The creature jumps out of the window, leading me away from my house. I don't look back at my home. I may not trust the creature, but I don't know what I'll find if I look back.

The creature continues to run, leading me towards the Driftveil Drawbridge.

"Where are you taking me?" I question, voice soft and sore.

"To the bridge," it responds, continuing on its path. I only watch as the city passes by, homes like mine and more modern buildings among the sites. Within a few minutes, the creature is rushing me across the drawbridge, only stopping when we've gotten halfway across it.

The creature sets me down on the left, propping me against the side. I press myself against the cold red metal, eyes darting around as I wait for something to come out that means me harm. Then, my eyes settle on the creature that has been transporting me thus far.

The creature is skinny, and covered in grey fur with black fur at its shoulders. It has long red and grey fur that extends from its head like human hair. The hair-like fur is tied with a blue hair-tie down at its knees. The strange beast also has pointy ears and a snout, causing for me to realize now that it must be a pokemon. However, as I look into its blue eyes, its soul seems to contain some part of human.

"Where are my parents?" I ask, feeling tears streaking down my face, "What do you want from me? What's going on?!"

"Hey, hey, don't worry," the pokemon attempts to reassure me. Suddenly, another voice comes from the bridges shadow. Since the moonlight is coming from behind me, a dark shadow from one of the large beams stretches across the walkway.

"Zoroark, are you sure that she'll be okay here?" a man's voice whispers from the shadow. He seems nervous. I manage to catch a glimpse of green hair as it falls off of his shoulder. I assume that this man is the pokemon's trainer.

"Well, I don't know! You're the one with the plan!" The Zoroark snaps back, then lets out a long sigh. It turns to its trainer before continuing to speak. "It shouldn't be long before someone shows up."

"Yeah, but-"

"No!" Zoroark says, "We're already involved. You can't be having doubts now! The damage is done," I'm more confused than ever.

"What damage?!" I sob and feel the two sets of eyes turn their attention towards me. "What is happening?"

"Uh, it's complicated?" the man says, seemingly not believing his own response. I look back to Zoroark and it rolls its eyes. Both of them remain silent.

"Can you please just tell me?!" I shout. Zoroark seems as if its about to answer, but is cut off by the sound of sirens coming from Route 5. I feel myself shaking even more at the new flooding of sounds. When I turn back towards Zoroark, it is climbing onto the side of the bridge, ready to jump. It looks back at me with a reassuring look in its eyes.

"Don't worry," it says, "I'll see you again," Then, it swiftly jumps off and down towards the water. I yelp in surprise and cover my mouth, fearful of what the pokemon has just done. I also notice that its trainer is gone too. I continue to watch the spot where the Zoroark and its trainer once, even as dozens of footsteps clamour across the bridge.

"Grey!" I hear the familiar sound of the Pokemon Professor's voice and turn to see her running toward me. Her caramel colored hair is a mess and I think that she's wearing a robe. She approaches me and I notice a fearful look in her green eyes. "I'm so happy you're okay," she says and picks me up, cradling me like when I was younger. She turns around to walk toward the mass of rescue workers dashing across the bridge. I peek over her shoulder, finally daring to look at my home, and am horrified by the sight.

Driftveil City is covered in flames.

{ }

I stare lazily out of the car window, resting my head against the cool glass. The weather seems to be reflecting my mood. It's raining heavily, the sun is covered by dark grey clouds, and it's colder than it normally is in the fall. I sigh and watch as the cloud of white floods the window.

"Are you doing okay?" the man next to me asks. He's very tall and has dark skin. His suit almost glows with how clean it is and the sleeves are pulled tight against his muscular arms. His bald head is shrouded in dark shadows from the dreary weather. I only look at him with a sad expression and he drops the small talk.

I don't understand what I'm doing in this man's, Mr. Simpson's, care, but he seems to have something to do with who is going to take care of me now that…

It's been a week since the fire in Driftveil City. Half of the city's citizens were either killed or harmed in the incident...My parents included. A few days after it happened, they caught the people that were responsible. Two punk kids were charged and they claimed to be working for Team E. They said that the E stood for "Electromagnetic" and that they were a part of a new rise. I don't know whether to believe them or not.

The streets are crowded with the morning bustle of people going to work. It feels like I've been stuck in the car forever! I watch as Castelia City's beautiful buildings roll by slowly, wondering which one of them is our destination. People walk leisurely with their pokemon. I observe the Liepard, Patrat, Herdier, and other Pokemon species as the waltz with their trainers.

Suddenly, the driver parks in front of a tall apartment building. The brick exterior is slightly faded and the paint on the door is slightly chipped, but it appears very homey.

"This is it," Mr. Simpson starts, "We'll just have your aunt sign some papers and you can stay here with her."

"Uh-huh," I mutter as I get out of the car. The sidewalk is wet and I almost stumble in my Mary Jane shoes. I'm dressed in a black dress and white tights, still mourning the losses in my life.

We walk into the apartment building, immediately getting a better impression of it. It's all redone so that it keeps the original charm of the building, but looking a lot cleaner. Mr. Simpson leads me into the elevator, a familiar route for me.

According to my parent's will, if they were ever to pass away, I would be sent to live with my aunt. However, she's only thirteen years older than me, and Mr. Simpson isn't sure she can handle the responsibility. That's why we're going to her apartment. It's to check things out.

We approach apartment fifteen, my aunt's apartment. I can hear quiet racket going on inside such as people talking. Mr. Simpson gently knocks on the door and I impatiently wait for my Aunt to answer.

Finally, the door swings open and a man stands before us. His black eyes are filled with shock at the sight of me, and he nervously runs a hand through his black hair. He's wearing his normal work outfit, a white dress shirt and blue pants, and his orange tie is hanging loosely around his neck. I've never actually seen him this unorganized.

"Hi Cheren," I peep. He's a lot taller than I am so I have to crane my neck to see him. He looks down at me and smiles, but quickly redirects his attention to Mr. Simpson. The two begin a conversation that I can't follow. There are too many big words for me to properly interpret.

Cheren steps back a few steps as if he's welcoming us inside. I slowly walk inside and investigate the apartment. The back wall houses two windows, big enough to let in lots of natural light on sunny days. The kitchen is placed along the back and left walls, colored in light blue, and a table is placed in between the windows.

In front of me is the cozy living room. It has soft carpeting that tickles your bare toes and happy yellow colored walls. To the right are two doorways. The close one is where Cheren sleeps, and the far one belongs to my aunt and her other roommate. I look back to the left wall in the living room area. A TV is placed on top of a box, playing a show that I don't recognize, and it faces towards the blue couch.

From the couch, a woman with blonde hair in a bob cut looks towards me with curious green eyes. She has her legs stretched out longways and still appears to be in pajamas. Her shirt is a bright orange color and she's wearing minty green pants. She sits up and leans over the back of the couch, observing us carefully.

"Bianca!" I cry and run over to hug her. Bianca embaces me back and, for the first time in a week, I am beginning to feel safe again. I let go of Bianca and lean over the end of the couch, peering at Cheren and Mr. Simpson. The two look worried and I notice that Bianca appears to share the emotion.

Suddenly, the door to my aunt and Bianca's room swings open and I watch with wide eyes at the woman who walks out. She has beautiful long brown hair, which is tied into a low ponytail, and her blue eyes are sorrowful. She's wearing a black shirt with three-quarter sleeves and black pants. I assume it's the uniform for the restaurant that she works at. Then, she looks over at us with a look of surprise and confusion. She doesn't say anything, likely because she doesn't know what to do in such a circumstance. I slide closer to Bianca in worry.

"Hi Aunt Hilda," I peep, trying to be careful with her. She's going through the same thing that I am, and I don't know how well she takes things like this. I want to be comforting.

"Hi," she responds and stalks towards Mr. Simpson, who straightens himself into alertness.

"Miss, do you have a place where we could discuss the matter of your niece?" Mr. Simpson's tone is all business as he addresses my aunt. She nods and points to her bedroom door. Mr. Simpson walks that way and I watch as Aunt Hilda comes over to me. She kisses my forehead before hurrying off.

Bianca and Cheren exchange glances of unsurity. I'm not sure what to do so I turn around and sink into the sofa.

{ }

I snuggle deeper into the pillow, still struggle to fall asleep. Mr. Simpson talked with Aunt Hilda for over an hour. When they finally came out, I wasn't sure what to expect. He said that all of the papers had been signed and that I'll be living in my aunt's custody. Then, he gave me his card and asked me to call him if I have any trouble.

Apparently, there has been more controversy about me living with Aunt Hilda than I understood. Cheren answered all of the questions that I had. She's not technically an adult yet, so the custody people were unsure whether she'd be fit for the job. Luckily, Cheren is a legal adult now, so they figured that it'll be fine.

I've been tossing and turning for what feels like forever. I'm borrowing Aunt Hilda's bed for the time being. She said that we'll figure out permanent living arrangements tomorrow. Her Stoutland is snoozing at the foot of the bed, its soft fur falling over its closed eyes.

"I'm not sure what to do, Cheren," I hear Aunt Hilda's voice from out in the living room. The bedroom door is slightly cracked so I can hear their voices carry. I peer over at Bianca, who is definitely asleep, then crawl to the edge of the bed, careful not to wake Stoutland.

"Come on, I know that you'll figure it out," Cheren attempts to console her. It doesn't seem to be working.

"Come on? I'm seventeen years old! How am I supposed to properly raise her?!" Aunt Hilda whisper-shouts in response.

"You have me and Bianca to help you, I'm sure that it'll be alright."

"But you don't know for sure!"

"Hilda."

"No! I'm not as smart as you are and I'm not as caring as Bianca! If she'd been left with you two she'd been better off!" I then hear the soft screeching of a chair being pulled out. There is a moment of silence and my heart beats a mile a minute.

"You may be right, but you have different qualities than Bianca and I do," Cheren says. "Plus, she's a lot like you. I'm positive that it'll be fine." More silence follows, then the soft shutting of a door. I stay frozen in place, too many thoughts running through my head to make sense out of them.

Then, Aunt Hilda walks through the door, her expression still troubled.

"Grey?" she whispers, walking towards the center of the room, "Are you okay?" I don't respond right away.

"Did they love me?" I ask, voicing a question that's haunted me since the incident. "My parents?"

"Yes," Aunt Hilda responds. I pause, not sure how to say my next question, and scared to ask.

"Do you love me?" I ask her, tears forming in my eyes. Aunt Hilda looks taken aback by the question. She walks over and sits on the bed, pulling me closer to her.

"With all of my heart," she responds, holding me close.

"But how is that possible?" I ask. Aunt Hilda smiles at my question.

"Well, this'll be the first lesson I teach you as your guardian," she says with a playful tone, "There are different types of love. There's loving your friends, which you learn to do. There's love for your family, which is unconditional."

"Unconditional?"

"No matter what."

"Oh."

"You don't really learn how to love your family. You just do. And finally," She pauses for dramatic effect, "There is romantic love, which is unbelievably unexplainable."

"Wow," I mutter, "Have you ever been in...Romantic love?"

"Uh," Aunt Hilda stutters, "It's complicated."

"Complicated?"

"Yeah," she says, "Lesson two, when adults say that something is complicated, it's likely that it's just too much for a younger child."

"But, I can handle it!" I respond, but Aunt Hilda looks serious.

"I know that you can, but sometimes the adult can't," We're both silent for a moment, unsure what to say. Then, Aunt Hilda smiles at me and hugs me harder.

I think that Cheren is right about this. Everything will be okay.


	2. Chapter 1

**Ten years later…**

I roll out of bed, my dark blonde hair falling into my face. I observe the bedroom as I regain my bearings, still groggy from sleep.

I've watched the bedroom go through many changes over the years. The day after Mr. Simpson brought me here, Aunt Hilda took me out and we got a trundle bed, which I shared with her until I was eleven years-old. Then, Bianca and Cheren started dating, and it became a good idea for them to share a bedroom. So, the trundle bed had to go, and I only share a room with my Aunt. I look across the room at Aunt Hilda's bed, which is vacant except for her Pansage. He's so cute.

Suddenly, I hear the crashing of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. Curious, I quickly get dressed and tie my hair up before heading out.

I stroll into the kitchen to find Bianca struggling to flip a charred...Something in a smoking pan. She's still in pajamas and her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. Then, she tries to turn down the burner, but turns it up instead, causing for the flame to grow freakishly big.

"Bianca!" I shout in schock and hurry over to turn off the burner. The flames go out, leaving me and Bianca to recuperate.

"Thanks, Grey," Bianca says, still breathless.

"No problem," I respond and then hear a door slam behind me. We turn around to see Cheren walking over. He looks the same as he did ten years ago. His tie is thrown sloppily around his neck and his shirt is untucked. This is the most unorganized that Cheren ever is.

"Oh Arceus above what the hell are you wearing?" he asks, gesturing towards my outfit. After hearing the crashing in the kitchen I'd been in such a rush that I didn't pay attention to my clothes! I'm looking at it now and realize how strange it is. I'm wearing a navy blue long sleeved shirt with a blue tee shirt over it. I also put on a pair of jean shorts that are frayed at the ends and mismatched socks.

I burst into laughter at what a mess I am. "How are you always right?"

"It's a gift."

"Sure." Bianca rolls her eyes at her significant other. They started dating roughly three years ago, and Aunt Hilda and I were surprised it didn't happen earlier. Cheren's composable neatness and Bianca's free spirit balance each other out well.

I turn around and go towards the front door. In the past ten years, certain situations have become routine. For example, Bianca cooking. I lean on the back of the couch, waiting for the next part of the "Bianca attempted to cook" routine.

On schedule, Aunt Hilda comes through the apartment door, already dressed for work. She's in the same black shirt and matching pants as usual. She is also carrying two paper bags.

"Right on schedule!" I exclaim and take a bag from her. The smell of food floods through my nose as I follow Aunt Hilda over to the table. Bianca looks relieved and grabs paper plates.

"Thank Arceus!" Cheren comments and we all sit down at the table. Aunt Hilda laughs at her friends. They've all been together for roughly twenty three years now, and living together for eleven! They all have such a close bond with each other that I have admired forever. If I can be half as happy with friends as they are then I'll consider myself lucky!

"Alright," Aunt Hilda starts. "You all know the drill. Grey on water, Bianca has plates, Cheren we need forks. Hurry! I want to eat!" We all scramble to set up breakfast and are soon sitting before plates of fast-food pancakes. Everyone prepares their food and we chat about various topics. Fun stuff.

"Okay." Bianca smirks mischievously. "So, Grey, are you considering, maybe, getting a pokemon one of these days?"

"Bianca!" Aunt Hilda hisses at Bianca. They obviously seem to have discussed the matter before. Cheren stops mid bite and looks nervously between the two girls. My reaction is basically the same as his.

"What?" Bianca replies with an innocent tone. "It's an honest question!"

"I actually don't know yet," I say and everyone looks at me with stunned expressions. I laugh awkwardly before continuing. "I just don't know what I'd choose! Where would I even go, anyway!" They remain silent and I worry that I've said something wrong. "What the hell is wrong with you guys?"

"Nothing," they all reply in unison, neither daring to respond.

"Come on!" I whine.

"It's just that," Cheren starts, considering his next words carefully. "We're just worried that you won't get any real world experiences otherwise."

"What?!" I shout, standing up. The chair skids loudly and I cringe at the sound. I had wanted to show that I'm upset but I wasn't expecting it to be a tantrum. Well, I'm in it now. Aunt Hilda and Bianca slowly scooch their chairs away from the table. "Cheren! I'm smart and I can handle myself!"

"That's not what I mean. I just think that we raised you to-" Cheren stops when he realizes that Bianca and Aunt Hilda are glaring at him.

"Oh, go on," Aunt Hilda says in a bitter tone. "How did we raise her?" Cheren stands uncomfortably.

"I just think that we may have sheltered her a little bit," Cheren says quickly then hurries into his and Bianca's bedroom. The rest of us roll our eyes and settle in again.

What does he mean by sheltered? I think to myself. I can do well out in the world! I quickly finish my breakfast and rush into my room, packing up my backpack. I've had it for years and its teal color is faded from use.

If Cheren doesn't think that I can handle myself then I am going to go and prove him wrong. I walk back out into through the kitchen and living room, towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" Aunt Hilda asks. I turn around to see Bianca, Cheren, and Aunt Hilda sitting on the couch. They're poking their heads over the back end of the couch, looking like little kids.

"On an adventure," I say confidently, standing straight and facing them.

"What does that mean?" Cheren comments sourly.

"Sounds exciting!" Bianca exclaims, seemingly oblivious to the dangers for fourteen year-olds. Wait, that's not the point.

"Exactly," I respond, gesturing to Bianca. Aunt Hilda rolls her eyes, looking worried. I don't know why she'd be skeptical of me having an adventure. Besides, it's not like I'm going on a journey.

"Grey, is this a good idea?" Aunt Hilda asks. I nod.

"Of course it is!" I respond. "Love you!" I wave at them and then run out the door before they object.


End file.
